


Shameless

by wingeddserpent



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Injury, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingeddserpent/pseuds/wingeddserpent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actually, Reno is just making sure she's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shameless

Truth be told, she’s not surprised when Reno puts his cigarette out. Not to say she was expecting it, because it’s Reno and she knows better. Tseng and Rufus are conversing in Rufus’s office and Rude’s outside, probably clearing out some monsters. That’s how Rude deals with things—fists first, legs second, thoughts third, emotions fourth, and words last (if at all).

Elena stretches her legs out, rests her feet on the coffee table, and winces at the sting of wounds not yet healed. “All’s well that ends well,” she says, glancing over at him. “Gotta say, the healing rain was pretty damn convenient.”

She’s not all that sure what stupidity she’s spewing, but she’s a little jacked up on potion, a little jacked up on freedom and the idea of Rufus being well and Tseng—how many times does she almost have to see her partner die anyway? (Actually, a lot according to Reno. Damn, but does he have horror stories)—being okay too, and then Reno stands and moves over to her, footsteps deliberate and heavy on the wood.

Neatly, he moves so that his legs are on either side of hers and he’s looking down at her with this harsh, intense expression that she’s seen before, twice before—once, in the Temple of the Ancients, and then that first time she got shot and nearly didn’t wake up—and she isn’t really surprised when he smirks, and says, “Laney, you talk too much.”

It’s not a surprise when his fingers find the buttons of her jacket, and then he’s loosening her tie, and normally she’d protest—because it’s Reno, and she loves arguing with him—but today, she tilts her head back and meets his eyes. She smiles.

No one ever had to tell her that the Turks were the only family Reno ever had. It was apparent in the way he had beaten her into the ground every time they trained ( _If you can’t survive, you don’t deserve to call yourself a Turk_ ), apparent in the way he’d spent days teaching her about rope after the Corneo incident ( _C’mon, I know you can bend more than that_ ), apparent in the way he’d refused to leave Tseng’s bedside after the Sephiroth incident, apparent in the silence that had settled over him like a shroud following Rufus’s diagnosis.

He tosses aside her jacket and her tie, and then he sets on her shirt, until that’s pooled on the floor too. Elena’s top half is bare now, except the for the tightly wrapped bandages, and he asks,  voice nearly a purr, “You gonna bleed out if I take these off?”

“Doubt it,” she says, “Anyway, would it stop you?”

“Doubt it,” he says, but she’s pretty sure that’s a lie.

His fingers easily undo the bandaging, until she’s in nothing but her pants and shoes, and he’s eyeing the scabs and bruises and scars and cuts on her torso with something akin to distaste. She’s certain of herself by now—the distaste’s not for her, but, rather, that this happened at all. Reno lightly traces a new scar with the pad of his index finger, following the ridge of it, and her breathing’s ragged.

Very carefully, he explores her wounds, until she’s gritting her teeth, trying to control her breathing, and he lightly teases at one of her nipples and she arches, gasping, then chokes on it because—fuck, ow, and she’s shaking now, not really from pleasure, and Reno frowns.

“Stop being a baby.”

She glares—and his face relaxes—and then snaps, “Next time you’re injured, I’ll get you off. Then we’ll see who’s the baby.”

His eyebrows shoot up (she’s surprised him, in a good way) and then he smirks, bending down so that their lips are nearly brushing. “Yeah?” he says, “That a promise, Laney?”

“You bet,” she says.

Reno grins that predator’s grin, “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, then pulls out a roll of bandaging.

He nudges her forward, and she sighs, but follows his guidance, and he wraps her wounds, hands warm on her skin, and he certainly doesn’t avoid touching her. In fact, his skin’s on her’s pretty much the entire time, teasing, making her warm—but that’s not his intent, not really. Reno’s a strange guy like that, having to see whether something’s whole or not by touching it.

Not that she’s complaining, because he’s really good at this whole first aid thing. Rude always makes it too tight, and he’d insisted on fixing her up earlier. Somehow, Reno always knows how to get it just right, and she sighs a little, shutting her eyes.

Once he’s finished and she’s patched up again, she opens her eyes and looks up at him, and he grins, that wry grin she sometimes thinks she might love, and then he finds the button of her pants.

Elena spreads her legs and shifts up a little, hissing through her teeth, because fuck, she’s sore. It feels like there’s a riot going on just under her skin, and not the good sort, and he shucks her pants aside, examines some of the bandaging at her thighs and calves, and then goes for her underwear instead—and that _really_ doesn’t surprise her—and she helps him with that endeavor as much a she can, which isn’t much, but Reno’s never really needed help getting anyone undressed.

If it’s one thing she can appreciate about Reno, it’s that he’s fucking fantastic with his hands; and it doesn’t take long for her to be writhing under his touch, pretty much mewling. Okay, so she’s kinda in pain and she’s spent however long being tortured and everybody thought they were dead, but, you know? Since everything is okay and this is how Reno likes to say hello and make sure you’ve got all your fingers and toes? She’s not really complaining too much. Reno stops her when she reaches for the waistband of his pants, however.

He winks, and sinks to a crouch, and if there’s one thing that’s better than his fingers it’s his _tongue_. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast she comes undone after that, shaking and nearly sobbing, except if there’s one thing that has no place in a family like the Turks, it’s shame.

Reno’s smile when he helps her get dressed is so relieved that she drags him back by his ponytail and kisses him.  She’s pretty sure he understands.


End file.
